


You Found Me

by Eottoghe



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American Football, Bullying, Existential Crisis, Friendship, Gen, Hazing, Heavy Angst, NGL some pretty lighthearted moments, Rape/Non-con Elements, SCHOOL DEBT IS TOO DAMN HIGH, Toxic Masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eottoghe/pseuds/Eottoghe
Summary: On a scholarship, Jeonghan forces himself through the hell that is college football.His best friend, Joshua, is concerned.The football captain, Seungcheol, is oblivious.





	You Found Me

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ!!! PLEASE READ!!! PLEASE READ!!! PLEASE READ!!! PLEASE READ!!!
> 
> Hello
> 
> First off, the biggest thank you to Manabishi for proofreading and helping me with this story (and life in general tbh). 
> 
> This has been sitting completed in my drafts for a few months now and after much deliberation (and persuasion from friends), I've finally decided to publish this. It was something I was going to keep to myself, but have made the decision to share it. Please check the tags before reading. There are content warnings for a reason and I would prefer you not read this if it would have a negative impact on you. This piece means a lot to me therefore my emotional connection to it is strong. If my emotions get all fucked... Well I advise you to go ahead and download it to save for yourself later in case I decide to get rid of it all together. 
> 
> There are parts I have re-worked, deleted, changed but overall, I have a message I want to convey in this story and I felt it would be a disservice to write it differently than how I truly felt so the most graphic part I have separated with "+++++" so if you'd like to skip, you can.
> 
> Seventeen is in NO WAY affiliated, nor would I ever wish harm upon them to any capacity. This is a work of fiction. I love my boys to the moon and back.
> 
> TW: Hazing, Bullying, Rape + All the things I hate about toxic masculinity in society
> 
> REALLY DON'T READ IF ANY OF THESE MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. YOU KNOW YOURSELF BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE.

_Hold on for a little while longer. You’ve dealt with much worse._

Sometimes Jeonghan would lie flat on the linoleum letting its glossy surface cool his burning skin. An uncomfortable swelter would settle around him. It left an irritable frown on his lips.

If he could rid himself of his restricting clothing, he’d probably do that too. Just to feel something—anything but this heat.

_It’s just too hot to be alive_.

He really couldn’t stand it.

The east wing of the science building consisted of several labs. They were often secluded at this time. Students would do bookwork on the other side, leaving this hall near desolate.

Jeonghan knew the schedule. Knew where to be when everyone else was occupied. He didn’t worry about any classmates or faculty walking in. They’d nag him about how unethical it was to take naps in the middle of the floor. A science laboratory floor at that. He didn’t even mind if his cropped, brunette hair got dirty with debris from past experiments.

But it’s too hot and he’s too angry so even if some unsuspecting individual managed to find his hiding spot, they’d be the ones to hear a mouthful, not him.

Contrary to popular belief, Jeonghan wasn’t always sleeping. It’s safe to assume he was when you saw him in classes with his head down, on the bench outside of the courtyard, spread on the couch in the library. It’s safe to assume he’d fallen asleep with his eyes closed and breathing steady like it got. It’s safe and easy to make assumptions.

But he was honestly more alert in this state. More aware. More conscious.

He closed his eyes to calm the thumping of his heart and to soothe the boiling of his skin. It’s meditative if anything.

He couldn’t blame others for assuming that he’d just been too lazy to walk the extra hundred feet to his dorm. That’s what it looked like after all. Looked like he was some apathetic asshole that disrespected the space around him.

He knew this reputation, yet not once had he corrected it. Even if he knew deep down his own personal reasons, he could hardly admit them to the world like that. His thoughts were just that. _His_. They were sacred and meaningful even if they had no meaning to anyone else. So there he was, allowing his thoughts to take over, distracting him from the physical turmoil he felt.

A recurring thought. _Why am I here?_

Call him melodramatic, he’d heard it before. But for some reason his mind kept drifting to the same set of questions as if it needed justification.

_Why am I here?_

Why did he take the steps he did to end up where he was today?

He’d gone to university straight out of high school. It’s normal. It’s what every other high schooler around him did. It’s what everyone expected of him. But he’d been miserable ever since.

Time, energy, money spent on things he wasn’t all that interested in doing. Give and give and give, but he failed to see what was being given in return. Universities were like that. They took everything without question. They never asked about the dread he’d feel when the end of the month approached and he didn’t have the funds to help with rent back home. They never asked about his family and how he’s a source of income. They never asked about the health insurance he couldn’t afford and how many times he’d just had to _deal_ with the injury or _deal_ with the illness. These were the questions they never asked and honestly didn’t care enough to know about.

The door clicked open, halting his train of thought.

Someone entered but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. He wasn’t ready to deal with people again. It was draining.

They probably wouldn’t bother him if they thought he was sleep. They’ll go about their business and leave him alone. Probably spread more rumors about _the_ Yoon Jeonghan. The Sleeping Beauty of their campus. They’d bounce off rumors of how he was narcoleptic or how he had some kind of _condition_ because that’s the only logical thing they can conjure in their snooping little minds.

But the soft mumble of “sorry” and hurried retreating footsteps never came. The scolding never came. Instead, he heard a tentative, “Jeonghan?” call out to him. Soft and questioning like a curious boy greeting a gentle creature. It was the only thing that could effectively ground him and allow his defenses to come down. It was the only person that could.

“Shua.” Jeonghan asked without moving, eyes still peacefully shut. The ground just felt so nice. He wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet.

The door closed. Footsteps, shuffling. Joshua was much closer now, right beside him. He could feel the energy buzzing off the other. Familiar and comforting.

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan could picture the pursed, judgmental lips of his roommate. Gently prying. He meant well and Jeonghan was appreciative.

He opened his eyes and painstakingly sat up to see the other sitting with his legs pulled in, facing him. Jeonghan leaned back on the palm of his hands, drawing his knees up. He mirrored his posture and put on a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Just tired?” Josh asked incredulously. “You went to bed early and woke up late.”

“Yeah...” _He’s not wrong._

A sigh. “Jeonghan, you can’t keep closing in on yourself like this. If you won’t talk to me, please talk to someone. You know the school offers counseling sessions for free.”

“I know.”

The silence consumed them for a few long seconds. Jeonghan couldn’t bring himself to look at Joshua because he already knew what to expect. Two and a half years of growing alongside each other does that to a person. He already knew what he was thinking just by the shift of fingers thrumming on his leg. “Did you need something?” Jeonghan asked coolly. Joshua came searching for a reason.

“Well, I ran into the captain of the football team this afternoon.” He began. Jeonghan felt his stomach lurch. His stillness didn’t reflect the nervousness he felt. “He said you missed last practice. Asked if you were okay.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. When we went off campus the other day, I didn’t know it was because you missed practice. You said it was canceled.”

“I thought it was canceled…” Jeonghan drew his eyebrows together.

Joshua didn’t buy it.

“You know how important this is right? If you don’t go to pra—” Joshua started to preach but Jeonghan didn’t let him.

“I know. I know.” The conversation ended there. Joshua was the first to stand.

After realizing his best friend wasn’t attempting to move, he rolled his eyes and extended both arms to him.

With a coy grin, Jeonghan grabbed on to his friend’s inviting hands and allowed himself to be dragged up until he was standing on stiff legs. This might have been the first time he smiled that day. It was foreign elsewhere, but familiar in his company. But the moment only lasted so long when gradually, the stifling air grew warmer. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Joshua was right. This was important.

“Let’s go. You have about ten minutes before practice starts.”

A deep grumble left the older’s lips, groggy and annoyed.

Like someone tampered with the furnace, thick heat began to engulf him once again.

* * *

“I don’t know what’s going on, but if you guys are having issues, I need for you to get it sorted out before we hit the field. We can’t afford to lose all our games this season because of petty disputes within the team.” The football Coach was on another rampage about teamwork and camaraderie.

_What would he know_ , Jeonghan thought bitterly. All he did was shout at them the entire practice then retreat to his office like they were leveling on two different planes. After his spiel, he’d go back to being the “tough love” kind of coach by generously ignoring the obvious root of the problem.

_Whatever_. Jeonghan didn’t feel like listening to his self-indulgent speech any longer. He was ready to go.

And of course after their coach left, the captain had to add in his own personal encouragements.

_Just empty words._ He had a good heart, Jeonghan could tell. But he was too optimistic for his own good. The perfect prodigy kid already had a path carved out for him. He was clean cut and well groomed. Handsome and intelligent. He’d been on the team for less time than Jeonghan had. Was only in his third year there, but they loved him so much he climbed the social and athletic ladder quicker than he could understand.

Choi Seungcheol.

He envied him. He’d probably never had to deal with poverty. Probably only knew the textbook definition of prejudice. Never had to deal with blatant bullying and mild harassment. People _loved_ him—worshipped the ground he walked on. It wasn’t fair.

He wasn’t saying Seungcheol didn’t deserve great things, but if he had the world, what was left for the rest of them?

If Jeonghan didn’t despise the football team in its entirety he may have given Seungcheol a chance. In another life or a parallel universe. He definitely wouldn’t feel this kind of resentment toward him if they’d met on the outside, but unfortunately, they hadn’t. He was a part of _them_ , even if only by association. Jeonghan chose to distance himself for that reason. Because he just had to be like _them_. Afterall, it’d been a year and a half since they’d met and not once had he tried to reach out to Jeonghan outside of football related reasons.

After the captain’s hopeful smile and rousing pep talk, he too left. He always did.

That was Jeonghan’s cue.

He opened his locker to get his belongings out as quickly as possible. He’d been reprimanded for packing up while the Coach was talking earlier that semester. It was so embarrassing, just reminiscing made his ears tingle with the phantom feel of an extreme blush. To avoid it, he waited with restless fingers until both Coach and captain were gone. Then he moved as swiftly as he could to reach the exit before getting noticed. He even stopped worrying about showering in the locker room despite how much he hated when his shirt clung to him with sweat. He’d take a long shower at his dorm instead.

After last summer, he could hardly face the team under normal circumstances, let alone shower in front of them.

He gathered his bag, not bothering to zip it. Took too much time. Closed his locker quickly, yet quietly.

But he wasn’t quick enough.

A powerful force slammed his head face first. The metallic clang echoed off the concrete walls like a shotgun in the dead of night. Being so close, his head would have easily ricocheted back, but it was stuck in place by the large hand holding it there. He could already feel the welts forming from the louvers digging into his skin. They pulsed with a burning kind of pain. Although it wasn’t much compared to the bridge of his nose. He just prayed it wasn’t broken.

“You heard them, Yoon.” The voice was theatrical. This wasn’t just for the Quarterback’s amusement. It was a show put on for all of them. He could hear the snickering, feel the glares. And when the hand finally released, Jeonghan allowed himself to properly breathe. He stared blankly at the locker in front of him. “Stop playing like a pussy. We can’t afford to lose games because of your… _issues_.”

_Hold on for a little while longer. You’ve dealt with much worse._

After a certain age, Jeonghan always expected that people matured. That maybe a switch would flip and all of a sudden, the type casted school jock would change in his character arc, becoming the protagonist’s best friend and sidekick. Bullying only existed in the movies anyway. Hazing wasn’t real. But his first day here, the first time he’d cried over having long hair or having a slimmer waist than the other kids, he finally realized that people were just as toxic as their evil movie portrayals. There was no character arc. There were no sidekicks. Only mean, bitter, fragile minded males who were so fearful of their masculinity being scrutinized that they targeted ones who didn’t fit their criteria. That’s the way they were raised and sometimes that couldn’t be helped.

He now understood that these stories he heard weren’t just made for entertainment’s sake. That the news articles he’d ignore, claiming “that could never happen to me” actually _could_ happen. That they were warnings in fact. It still baffled him how severely spot on they were.

With his belongings closely bunched in his arms, he bit back a terse “Fuck you.” before turning and storming out of the locker room. He’d gotten used to hearing all sorts of things. Didn’t mean they stung any less.

_I’m glad he’s not showering with us anymore._

_Probably off to sleep around again._

_Fucking disgusting._

His head was pounding. It felt like a jackhammer steadily drilling into his skull. It wouldn’t rest until it split it in two. His legs were sore from practice, but he propelled them forward. He needed to get away. He was so close to his dorm, yet it felt like an eternity trekking through the Sahara. He needed to get to his dorm before his entire body melted down to a waxy nub. It was just too hot in this god forsaken place.

He fumbled with his keycard. Rage made it difficult to see straight. With shaky hands and blurry eyes, a task he performed on a regular basis became so arduous _._ Every little thing worked to infuriate him.

_Swipe, Swipe, Swipe_. The red light on the card reader and the annoying **BONG** it blared each time his attempt failed made Jeonghan just about ready to kick the door in.

“Hey! What’s wrong?” But thankfully he was saved.

Joshua opened the door from the inside. He’d been in his room with the door closed so hadn’t heard the commotion until it built up.

Jeonghan didn’t spare him a glance as he rushed past. Discarded gym bag, jacket, notebooks all scattered across the floor as he made a beeline for the bathroom. He could have taken the extra second to zip it. Not like it would have made a difference.

Joshua stood frozen. He gave a sad glance to the distance growing between them. After hearing the bathroom door slam, he closed the one he was by gently. He began picking up the items that Jeonghan left in his wake.

_I wish you’d let me in._

Jeonghan sat on the floor, the tiles cooling his bare legs. He pressed his red face against the side of the tub, enjoying the cold. The cuts still stung, but slowly grew numb once he calmed down.

He hated when he felt like this. Hated when his entire body was on fire. The water in the shower was running on its coldest setting. The misted spray fanned across him as it bounced off the side of the tub. He built up the strength to get back on his feet.

The sound mollified him, sedating his urge to break something. He wasn’t as angry anymore. Jeonghan pushed himself up, climbing into the basin. Leaned on the wall, glad that Joshua regularly cleaned. He allowed the water to massage his pores bringing so much relief with it. His head began to clear up as a result.

_Shua_. The first thing that came to him was guilt. He’d made a huge scene, more than likely worrying him. He didn’t even remember acknowledging him despite being saved from an embarrassing meltdown outside of their dorm. He’d be sure to thank him after his shower. Maybe cook him dinner or something. It was the least he could do. He felt indebted to his friend. A deep sense of gratefulness for putting up with him freshman, sophomore and now half of their junior year. He’d make it up to him somehow.

* * *

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

It’d been a few hours since Jeonghan came back fuming. He’d floated through the dorm in silence, sulking to himself. Joshua did his best to focus on studying, but with Jeonghan’s tantrum lingering fresh in his thoughts, he couldn’t stay on task for long.

Jeonghan finally emerged from his room in a pair of white, cotton pajama shorts and one of his favorite band t-shirts. As if it weren’t obvious enough, he wore the shirt he only wears when he’s had a particularly awful day. He wore it when he needed its comforting familiarity to ground him. He donned a monotonous expression, looking wholly unbothered, but Joshua knew it was a default façade of his. After Joshua asked the question (and got no response) he huffed in annoyance. Jeonghan shuffled closer until he was in front of the couch, falling on it with an exaggerated plop.

“If I said no, would you drop it?” Jeonghan mumbled with his face hidden in a pillow.

“Why do you always do this? Deflecting and…” Jeonghan shouldn’t have looked. “—oh my god, what happened to your face?” Joshua stopped, now able to see him clearly. He took his chin between his index and thumb, examining the new cuts. If Jeonghan hadn’t been rushing through the dorm earlier, he would have noticed sooner. Thin red lines emphasized the growing welts etched into his otherwise unblemished skin. His nose had an ugly bruise to go with it. Fuck. It looked bad. Really bad. Accompanied with red, swollen eyes, Joshua knew the day was much much worse than awful.

Joshua ran his thumb over an indent under his left eye and the other hissed quietly.

“Football practice.”

Joshua was positive nothing on the field could have caused this. The possibility of Jeonghan admitting that was slim to none.

“Wh— I…”

“No. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Joshua bit his tongue before re-organizing his thoughts. “Have you cleaned it?”

“I took a shower?”

It went like this every time. Jeonghan would procrastinate—all but refuse to go to football practice. Joshua would have to partially bribe him/partially drag him. Then after, Jeonghan came back looking pissed and donning a new injury. It was to be expected. Football wasn’t the safest sport, but it was nearing ridiculous how prone to injury Jeonghan was becoming. Freshman nor Sophomore year had been _this_ bad.

Joshua tried coercing something, _anything_ out of him.

_Are you okay? Is there something going on? Are they harassing you?_ but each one was tossed over his shoulder like a wadded-up piece of paper discarded in the nearest trash bin.

_I’m fine. I don’t feel like talking. Can you just let it go?_ He could feel Jeonghan slipping from his grasp the tighter he held on. So for now, Joshua just treated his wounds and let the topic go. They ate dinner and watched a movie together, knowing that if he couldn’t help him in one way, he’d help in another. Joshua wouldn’t be getting any work done tonight.

* * *

“I want to be very straightforward with you, Jeonghan. I’ve seen your performance over the past few weeks and I feel it’s hurting the team more than helping. You are aware that practices are mandatory, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Jeonghan always felt uncomfortable under the Coach’s condescending gaze. It was terrifying enough in a group setting, but when they were alone, he felt trapped. He would much rather crumble into dust and blow away.

“Then why have you been skipping them?” He didn’t sugarcoat his words. The unwavering tone he used was frustrated.

Jeonghan couldn’t blame him. The Coach put so much faith in him. He’d given him a chance. And Jeonghan was almost regretful to say it, but sometimes he wished he wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t.

“I wasn’t feeling well…” Jeonghan wasn’t necessarily lying.

But he wasn’t telling the full truth either.

“Jeonghan.” He heaved a sigh like the weight of the world was baring down on his shoulders, “Please don’t forget that you’re under contract. If you don’t adhere to the schedules—if your performance starts lacking, you risk losing your scholarship.”

Of course he knew this. He knew the only reason he could attend the school or any school for that matter was by the free ride he’d received. Hearing it out loud still made his stomach churn. The idea of losing it hurt like the disappointment of returning home with nothing to show for it.

“I understand.” 

“If you’ve got a problem, please just be up front with me so we can get this all sorted out. I want what’s best for you and the team.”

Jeonghan had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. The words were scripted. He’d heard this same sequence last time he was put on probation.

It wasn’t like Jeonghan never tried. He went to the Coach first then a professor second. He tried to explain what he was being put through and got a firm pat on the shoulder and a “boys will be boys”.

_Little squabbles here and there will help you to grow closer as a team_ and _Boys roughhouse. If you can’t handle it, why are you playing football?_

So what the Coach really meant was _sort it out yourself or find a different way to pay for college._

“Thank you. I will keep that in mind if anything arises.” He replied with the same kind of forced fakeness.

As soon as he was given the okay to go, he bowed and took his leave. Passing by the locker room, he ducked in to grab his water bottle. Already late, he rushed back out and headed towards the field. He already felt out of place showing up late. It was disorienting. Was it ever this hot in October?

The conversation replayed in his head. It put him in a sour mood before he’d even met the team.

Honestly, he really liked the sport. He was good at it for starters. That’s how he’d landed the scholarship in the first place. But football wasn’t the reason he stayed. He couldn’t care less about the stupid game and the stupid team.

But he did care about the contract. If it weren’t for the scholarship, there would be no other way he could afford college. No college, no degree. No degree, no job. At least that’s what he was force fed every day since starting adulthood.

His mother and sister were at home and he had a nasty fear of letting them down. His mom would feel like a failure for not being able to provide for him like she wished. His sister would have no one to look up to. He stayed for them. He would be able to find a good job after he graduated because businesses cared about fancy titles and degrees. He would be able to support his sister and prevent his mom from working herself to death.

It would be worth it.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

“Hey, Jeonghan!” He heard his name called from the other side of the field not a moment after he stepped out of the air-conditioned building. Probably sensing Jeonghan wouldn’t walk any quicker than necessary, the captain took it upon himself to jog over to him first. “We’re changing up positions a little today. We’re going to try you on center instead of running back. That okay?”

Jeonghan could see the distress lining his tensed muscles. They were firm and defined beneath his white compression shirt. The frown on his face was uncharacteristic. It looked like the team had been giving him a hard time. He decided not to add to the stress and simply nodded in acceptance.

Jeonghan was a great running back. He was good at going fast, weaving and dodging between players. But his team made it wholeheartedly impossible for him to do his part when they refused to pass him the ball. Even worse when they actively tried to trip him up. He thought Seungcheol and the Coach would catch on eventually, but apparently not. They were living in oblivion. The limbo in between truth and what they want to believe as truth. He’d just let it go, toughen up and do what was asked of him. He only had to make it through today.

They got into positions. Jeonghan crouched down with the football firm in his right hand. He held it to the ground as the other members crowded him in similar alert stances. Players in front, next to, and behind him. The Quarterback, the same who’d smashed his face into the lockers, stood behind him.

It was odd though. Jeonghan couldn’t quite place what _it_ was but he kept his guard up regardless. He waited for the signal.

“Hike!” The guttural shout caused Jeonghan’s mind to go on autopilot. He snapped the ball backwards between his legs and instantly stood up to block whoever would try to tackle him, but the play didn’t go further than that.

“You tossed it too high. Can we get someone here who actually knows what they’re doing, Cap?” The Quarterback behind him complained. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t feel you behind me so I didn’t know where to throw. If you were in position, maybe you would have caught it.” Jeonghan bit back, not in the mood to put up with his bullshit today.

The other’s voice dropped decibels lower to where only the immediate players around could hear. “And catch your gay? I don’t wanna get any closer than I have to be.” His snarky response made a couple others laugh around him. So childish.

“What’s so funny? Go again.” Seungcheol shouted a little off field. _Oblivious_. “Move in closer. You can’t catch the ball from a mile away.”

“Got it, Cap.” The other shouted back, smug as ever.

Jeonghan returned to his original position. Center was always his least favorite for obvious reasons. Knees bent and hand balancing on the ground, it made him feel vulnerable as the Quarterback was directly behind, waiting to catch the ball. This time he could feel the other’s hand right under his ass and that alone made him want to get the play over with. The Quarterback had increased his proximity more than necessary as if to taunt him. Jeonghan turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw the smirk behind his helmet.

Jeonghan faced forward again, ignoring it and allowed himself to focus.

The Quarterback wasn’t satisfied with that. He hunkered down just a little further. Close enough to make his next words ring, the background noise drowning them out to the rest of the field. “Isn’t this your favorite position? Bending over for guys?”

The patience Jeonghan had left flew out the window. He stood up, ready to drive his fist into the other’s face. Commotion broke loose as the other team members tried to intervene before it got too serious.

“How about you back the fuck up?” One fist was around the collar of the Quarterback’s jersey while the other was reared back, ready to swing.

“I bet you hit like a bitch. Do it! Go ahead. Give me a reason to kick your ass.”

“Hey! Hey! Stop!” Seungcheol wrapped his arms around Jeonghan’s shoulders. The snug hold prevented him from doing any damage. Other players pulled the Quarterback away. “What is going on?”

Jeonghan was seething. He didn’t resist, but he wanted to. He wanted to push everyone aside and just let his fist collide with something, preferably that assholes throat.

The other boy shook it off quickly, that same repulsive smile playing its way back onto his face. It was the only thing that subdued Jeonghan, knowing that he’d be falling right into his trap if he allowed himself to get worked up over something so stupid. He was only trying to get under his skin and for the most part it worked. But he refused to let him think so. Jeonghan conceded and decided to keep his swears _and his fists_ to himself.

They both mumbled a forced _sorry_ to the captain, creating distance.

Seungcheol looked between the two with a genuinely perplexed frown before nodding. “I know it’s hot out today, but we have to at least make it through one play. Jeonghan, you’re on running back again. Switch out and get into positions!” He rubbed the sweat off his forehead, massaging his temples. Seungcheol couldn’t afford to miss a full day of practice because two of his players couldn’t even stand next to each other without trying to bash each other’s faces in.

It looked as if it was Jeonghan’s fault. It always did. If something went wrong, they were quick to put the blame on him like they had blinders up to every word or movement someone used to provoke him. This day couldn’t possibly get more infuriating. He had to get out of the sun before he exploded.

Turning off his mind, he tried to detach himself and just let the instinctual moves guide him through the rest of practice.

The Quarterback shouted his signal, the Center tossed the ball back. It was passed to him and he caught it with ease. The best part would be allowing his legs to carry him forward, faster and faster with the wind against his face, veins pumping with adrenaline.

But he didn’t make it that far.

Before he really had the ball within his grip, he felt a force strike him like an eighteen-wheeler roaring down the highway. He went down quick. But it didn’t stop there. The pressure increased as four, maybe five people went in on top of the tackle. More than crushing, he felt limbs jab in defenseless places, his arm being bent abnormally under the weight of the others. Just breathing burned, his lungs felt like collapsing. He heard the whistle blow in the background, but maybe it was his own ears ringing.

“That was unnecessary roughness! You would have been flagged had this been a real game. Can you guys get serious for one fucking minute?!” Seungcheol roared, making his way back onto the field. That was a first. Seungcheol didn’t curse often. At least not when he was in the Captain role. He was firm, but always kind.

Slowly, the weight was being lifted off Jeonghan in small increments. It was too late though. He could feel the bruising form in dark splotches around his body. It hurt. It _really_ hurt.

Once the others were off, he felt a shadow cast over his face, blocking the sun. It provided some much-needed shade as he felt the heat would all but consume him. “Are you okay?” He heard Seungcheol’s voice, deep and calm.

“Yeah.” Jeonghan tried to speak, but it came out more like a wheeze. His hand clutched at his side where the pain was radiating from. “Fine. I’ll be—fine.” He tried sitting up, but every single jolt felt like needles bearing down into his nerve endings.

“Someone go get coach!” Seungcheol yelled out to any member of the team who could hear. When they all stood there dumbly, he tacked on a sharp “Now.”

“No. Seriously. I’ll be fine.” Jeonghan tried to convince the other to stop making it such a big deal, but the pulsing headache made it difficult to even keep his eyes open.

“Shit. I think we need a medic. I’m going to take you to the hospital okay?” Seungcheol tried to help the other sit up.

“No. I—no really. I’m okay.” _Fuck_. He felt the words slurring as they left his lips. It wasn’t easy to say he couldn’t go to the hospital because he couldn’t afford it. There was no way they would see him without insurance. And if they did, it was going to cost more than he was worth.

Seungcheol didn’t take the hint though. It’s not like he was notorious for that kind of thing anyway. Jeonghan would have preferred to lie there and die before being dragged off to a hospital. His body slowly giving up on him, the other helped lift him up and off the field.

Jeonghan could have been hallucinating. He wasn’t in the most stable of conditions, but he was sure he saw the Quarterback laughing from the sidelines. If he weren’t feeling so weak, he could have finally kicked his ass like he’d been itching to. But today wouldn’t be that day.

* * *

Awkward and a little tense, Seungcheol waited while Joshua caught his breath. “Thank you for meeting me here.” Seungcheol let his lips curve up at the boy who’d burst through a few minutes prior.

“Don’t mention it. Thank you for having someone contact me.” Joshua arrived at the hospital in record time. He got the call from a school number, instantly curious as to who could be on the other line. The Coach said there’d been an _accident._ And Joshua remembered in detail how oddly placed the word felt by the tone of his voice. He’d grabbed Jeonghan’s things from the Coach then rushed to the hospital quicker than his legs could carry.

Seeing his best friend all battered and bruised wasn’t easy. Expected, but jarring. Jeonghan had definitely seen better days. His short, brunette hair pushed wildly back, a sickly pale color to his skin. But even looking as if he’d been put through hell and back, his deceivingly tranquil figure was still so stunning. Even at his worse.

“Yeah. I realized I didn’t have your number otherwise I would have called you personally. I didn’t want to leave him here without anyone, you know?”

“It’s fine. Anything come back yet?” Joshua didn’t mind the small talk, but the concern he felt was too strong to hold casual conversation. Jeonghan was stubborn with doctor visits. If he was here, it had to be serious.

“The doctor actually just left a minute or so before you got here. Nothing is broken, thankfully. There’s a bit of bruising and a mild concussion though...”

“Jesus.” He let a pained breath go. “What happened?”

“He was tackled and ended up at the bottom of the pile.”

The worry on Joshua’s face morphed into something dark. He didn’t know much about football, the extent of his knowledge being what he’d learned from Jeonghan. Didn’t care much to know either. But he prided himself on not being incompetent. There was only so much damage that could be done on any given basis. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, he thought. They were _trying_ to hurt him.

He kept telling himself that it was one of those sports where injuries were inevitable. There were obvious risks when tackling was glorified. But he couldn’t keep watching his friend struggle this much because of a _game_. That’s all it was. A _game_. Jeonghan had more injuries in one semester than he had his first two years on the team. Joshua couldn’t keep relying on him to tell the truth. He was hiding something.

“Hey… Can I ask you something?”

Seungcheol looked unsure. The tone of the other’s voice was unsettling. “Yeah?”

“Have you noticed anythi—”

“Shua?” Jeonghan croaked out beside the two, startling them both with a cough.

“I didn’t see you wake up.” Joshua’s response came out flatter than he’d meant. Of course his sly best friend was awake. He’d probably been faking it the entire time.

Joshua didn’t want to let it go. He couldn’t. It would turn out like every other time if he did. It would turn into a shrug of the shoulders and a _“it’s really no big deal”_. It would drift off until one or the other forgot. And then he’d come back on the verge of another meltdown days later. The cycle never ended. He knew he couldn’t say a thing with him there so Joshua made a mental note to seek out Seungcheol later.

“I told this shithead not to bring me here.” His voice was raspy, throat dry from hours without hydration, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. Or as sharp as they could be with the thick haze of mild head trauma present.

“Is he always this vulgar?” Seungcheol, stunned, looked toward his teammate’s best friend. Joshua gave a half shrug.

“You should be thanking him, Jeonghan. He’s a responsible captain.”

Jeonghan chuckled at that. The irony. “Yeah, sure. Can we go?” He was more than grouchy. The pain had subsided some, probably because of whatever drugs they were pumping in him, but the whole shitty day was fresh in his mind.

“They were planning to discharge you tonight after a couple of precautionary checkups.”

“So no?”

“Sadly, no.” Joshua, although the youngest, took the role of mom-friend more often than he cared to. “I’m just glad you’re okay. Your face was just starting to heal up from last practice and now this?”

“What… Did something happen last practice?” Seungcheol chimed in.

He walked straight into Joshua’s trap. Jeonghan was caught in yet another lie.

Jeonghan gave his best friend a threatening glance before redirecting his attention to Seungcheol. “You can go now. Thank you again for bringing me here.” _As unwilling as it was._ The inflection in his voice mirrored his true feelings.

Seungcheol didn’t take it to heart. The concern seemed genuine when he said, “I don’t mind waiting until you’re discharged. I’d feel bad.”

“Well imagine how I feel.”

Joshua could take Jeonghan’s crassness on any given day, but that’s when it was directed at himself. That and Jeonghan wasn’t grasping the gravity of the situation. “Can you not?” The sharp edge to his voice made him feel small. “You do realize you could have been left to pick yourself back up on your own? Seungcheol may have just saved your life and you can’t even thank him?”

Jeonghan decided not to point out that he technically _did_ thank him. “I’m sorry... I really am grateful. I’m just a bit tired.” He let himself burrow deeper into the sterile hospital sheets. He _was_ tired. So so tired. And dealing with people was beginning to take its toll. He knew his anger was misplaced, but he was just too exhausted to think straight.

“Umm yeah. Okay. See you then. I’ll tell coach you have two weeks off. Doctor’s orders.” Seungcheol gathered his keys and other belongings. “And… if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. I—I know we don’t talk much outside of practice, but… I’d like to start. If that’s okay.” He never tripped over his words like this. He’d never had to fear rejection.

And he wasn’t far from it. Seungcheol expected more than a nod. It left him feeling a bit hollow. Like Jeonghan didn’t believe he would. Seungcheol knew he didn’t deserve more. He didn’t deserve any of his time and especially not his trust.

His pride was wounded.

They hadn’t been particularly close, but he was under the impression that he was well-liked by _all_ his teammates. They were family after all, right? He wanted to be there for them. He wanted to be a fair and kind leader. One that his teammates felt they could rely on and confide in. But now looking back, he realized he wasn’t that person. Not at all. Not if Jeonghan despised him that much. He’d failed.

He could recall having intimate conversations with each of his teammates. Everyone except Jeonghan. He didn’t know him. He could name stats about his football standing or go into detail on his attendance at practice, but he couldn’t think of one, not _one_ time in which they’d sat down and had a conversation about anything other than football. A year and a half and they were still strangers.

On his way out, he promised himself that he’d check in more. Not as the captain of the football team, but as a friend. He owed at least that.

* * *

“Seungcheol seems nice.” Joshua wouldn’t let it go. Each time they’d had a topic change, he’d managed to slip in some praises about the captain of the football team. His hints definitely did not go unnoticed.

Jeonghan sprawled out over the couch. He was using the other as a foot rest while his head was cradled by downy throw pillows.

“Please stop.” Jeonghan groaned like an embarrassed teenager trapped in a sitcom.

“What? All I’m saying is that he offered to talk to you—”

“It’s the first time he’s offered since we’ve met. If he only decided to say it now it’s because of guilt. Or pity or some shit. He’s only doing it to make himself feel better. Definitely not gonna pour my heart out to him and tell him my deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Okay. Okay! But at least he’s trying. I don’t think you’re being fair.” Joshua tried to reason, idly running his hand along Jeonghan’s legs. It still made him sick to see the bruises. There were so many. An accumulation of torment only Jeonghan knew about.

“Right. At least he’s trying.”

“The sarcasm isn’t necessary. Which side was hurting again?” Joshua flattened his hand into a blade. He joked like he was going to karate chop him in the side.

“Stop making me laugh. It hurts.” But Jeonghan couldn’t stop himself from giggling anyway. It was the first time in a long time he wasn’t required to do anything. His classwork was passed along through Joshua. He was excused from his tutoring job—medical leave. He wasn’t forced to go to practice. It felt good.

If injuries meant not having responsibilities, he’d do it more often. There was of course the downside where he’d get excruciating headaches. And the part where his abdomen always felt like it was being ripped in half wasn’t the best. But his roommate bringing him food and letting him binge shows made it (debatably) worth it.

Being a third year was such hard work. _“You’ll be thesising next year. You don’t want to fall behind.”_

It was starting to get to him. It had been for a while. He didn’t even have this year figured out let alone preparations for the next.

But it meant that the end was steadily approaching. Soon he’d finish university, get his degree in natural sciences and probably never touch a football again for as long as he lived. Joshua tried convincing him to take some music classes. He’d been not so subtly asking since they’d met at orientation. And Jeonghan liked it well enough but knew the credits would be useless for his degree. Music was impractical. It was a reach when all he needed was security. He didn’t have much time for clubs. All his energy was reserved for football, work, and classes. If he added one more thing, he would lose the precious time he had set aside just for himself.

“What are we even doing?” Joshua calmed down from his laughing fit, now staring off at the cream-colored walls.

“What?” Jeonghan noticed the change almost instantaneously.

“I think the best part of uni is meeting you and the other kids here. Like I’m learning, sure, but I don’t _really_ need a degree to have a music career.” He looked distressed by the thought. Jeonghan knew how he felt. Like their time here could all be a huge waste. Would it count for anything after they graduated? What if they ended up jobless and wandering? Wandering for years, never being satisfied because they’d wasted so much time here. Their thoughts would roam until the unanswered questions plagued them in the pockets of silence they’d share. Nothing but time could tell.

“I feel you. You’re definitely talented enough to just go for it, you know.”

“Thanks…” They sat in a comfortable silence for a while. “You should really come in to the studios sometime. I have this one song that I think you’d sound great on.”

“What? You don’t have to compliment me just because I gave you one.”

“No! I mean it. You know, I can never tell if you’re joking or if you’re really just too self-deprecating to accept a compliment.”

“It’s the latter.”

“And there you go again!”

“I love you, Joshuji.”

“You too, Hannie-ah.”

He could trust Joshua with anything.

Which was why he never fully opened up to him. He couldn’t tell him about the bullying. Joshua cared too much. He would be too understanding. He would be too sympathetic. He would force him to do something about the treatment that would involve too much stress and too much energy. It was all just too much. It was hard enough just dealing with the sneers. Being a snitch would ruin him until he was forced to drop out. Dropping out just wasn’t an option.

* * *

_How are you feeling?_

_-SC_

_I’ve been better, but I can’t complain._

_-JH_

_You saying that is complaining though?_

_-SC_

_Oh shit. The Choi Seungcheol has a sense of humor??_

_-JH_

_I’m starting to become like you! Time to tap out._

_-SC_

_And Shua says I’m the asshole._

_-JH_

_Would he be wrong?_

_-SC_

_Double kill. You’re on fire today._

_-JH_

Jeonghan could admit, he was impressed. It was odd at first. He didn’t know how to respond to Seungcheol’s initial “ _hey_.” text message. Like what did that even mean? Was he saying hey like “Hey, I need to talk to you.” Or “Hey, how was your day?” or some other variant on the greeting. It was vague and hardly a good conversation starter so after possibly three hours of contemplation and thirty minutes of his best friend telling him to “ _Just respond! It doesn’t even matter_.”, he finally sent one back.

In hindsight, maybe “ _yeah_?” wasn’t the best he could do. It was just as bland, but what was done was done. And surprisingly Seungcheol’s next message wasn’t football related like every other message he’d ever received from him. He supposed “ _How are you_?” could have been sports related at first then turned into something more casual. But he liked to think Seungcheol was giving effort in getting to know the person aside from the running back. And for the past few days they slowly unraveled a kind of quirky humor between each other.

_I’m starving._

_-SC_

_That sucks. I’m surrounded by chicken and pizza. Can’t relate._

_-JH_

_Is there enough for two?_

_-SC_

_There’s enough for two of me, yes._

_-JH_

_Ha. You’re really funny, Han._ 😉

_-SC_

😉

_-JH_

_Be there in 10._

_-SC_

_You dnt evrn kno where i live???_

_***don’t, even, know. Auto correct gave up on me._

_-JH_

_Got it from your roommate, don’t worry_ 😉

_-SC_

Fucking NO. Jeonghan had literally not showered in three days (possibly more, he lost count). As he tripped over himself to the bathroom, wincing on his way, he sent off a text to his roommate in pure rage.

_WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO????_

_-JH_

He’d never hopped into the shower so quickly.

Honestly, why did he even care? He’d shared a sweaty locker room with the same person since sophomore year. Logically, Jeonghan shouldn’t care _that_ much about his physical appearance and… manly stench. But something had him catapulting himself through the fastest scrub down ever. His bruises stung, crying for him to give it a rest.

The dorms weren’t far apart from each other. Well, he didn’t think they were. Yet, he had no clue where Seungcheol actually lived so that only added to the stress he felt. Perhaps he was the suite next to his and he’d just never realized it. Maybe he lived off campus and had to speed to get here in a timely manner. But when he heard a knock at the door exactly ten minutes later, he pushed all thoughts aside and checked in the foggy mirror for a split second just to make sure he didn’t look like a total mess. The cuts on his face were doing surprisingly well. They were fading, nearly indiscernible.

He slipped on a pair of pastel track pants and a casual t-shirt. He was never known to be a fashion icon. Plus, it was only Seungcheol. He opened the door to see the other clad in all black. Just a plain black t-shirt and plain black track pants. Yet he’d never looked so… nice? Jeonghan couldn’t decide if that was the right word to use. Maybe nice was an overstatement, but it was a pleasant change from the usual.

“I’m injured, you know? I think I re-damaged some tissue just opening the door for you.” Jeonghan tried to pretend like he wasn’t just running around the apartment searching for some clothes that weren’t dirty when he opened the door. He was sure this shirt was Shua’s but knew he wouldn’t mind. He was just glad his roommate regularly cleaned their dorm.

“Oh? Did you just get out the shower?” Seungcheol smirked when he saw the other stall in step. He quickly composed himself before slowly lowering himself to the couch. “Your hair’s still wet.” Seungcheol added just to stick the nail in the coffin.

“I mean… I took one a little while ago, just never got around to drying it.” He tried to reason.

“It’s dripping…”

“It takes a while to dry.”

Seungcheol laughed it off, standing awkwardly by the door. He didn’t know what to do with himself. It wasn’t that Jeonghan was a complete alien. He’d just never hung out with him outside of practice. Now that he thought about it, Jeonghan didn’t usually hang out with them after the games either. The team would often go out for food or meet at someone’s house for a post celebratory party. It made him uneasy realizing just how much he never noticed his absence before. As a captain, he regretted not being more inclusive.

“You can come sit down if you want?” Jeonghan offered. “Unless you just prefer standing at the entrances of rooms like that. I don’t mind either way.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He tried not to be so stiff, but he could feel his words coming out blocky. Was he nervous? Talking in an authoritative tone to a team full of same aged classmates somehow felt more natural than talking to Yoon Jeonghan in his apartment style dorm at 8:59 pm.

He joined him on the couch and the overpowering smell of food instantly relaxed him, making his mouth salivate. Honestly, he wasn’t hungry before. He just jumped on any excuse to visit. Spread out across the coffee table was truly enough food for two Jeonghans. Possibly three. “Were you really planning on eating all of this by yourself?” Seungcheol gawked at him.

“I definitely was.” Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to pick up a piece of chicken and tear through it. “But go ahead. I don’t need to eat this much anyway. I think I’ve gained like ten pounds just this week.”

Seungcheol wondered if he ate like this regularly. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be this skinny even with his active training. He didn’t let the thought linger, storing it for another time and helped himself to a slice of pizza.

It was obvious that Jeonghan and himself got along well together. He surely wasn’t the shy kid he always assumed he was. He was energetic, quick-witted, and a lot cuter when he wasn’t scowling at everyone. Cute may have not been the word he was looking for. But it felt right in the moment.

* * *

Jeonghan was disappointed. Disappointed was an understatement really, but he couldn’t think of anything more poetic. It was more like a spectrum, ranging from anger to melancholy. Two weeks passed of the most refreshing time off he’d had this whole year. He didn’t want to chalk it up to Seungcheol keeping his attention but having him there definitely didn’t hurt. Seungcheol understood his sense of humor and didn’t think he was an asshole for it. He didn’t call him mean names or imply crude things or make him feel inadequate like the majority of people on campus did. It was a nice distraction from everything else going on around him.

When the two weeks was over, the world continued to turn. It felt like everything had just been on pause momentarily, waiting for him to return to the mundane. Anything that had changed reverted back to before. Seungcheol saw him in the locker room in passing but didn’t strike up conversation. Maybe spare him a glance once or twice, nothing more. He never stayed.

Pretty soon, Jeonghan started believing it really was just guilt that brought them together in the first place. Seungcheol felt the need to reach out because he felt bad for what happened. It wasn’t because he actually cared about Jeonghan’s wellbeing, but that he cared for his own self-conscious. Which was totally fine. If it helped him to sleep easier at night, Jeonghan couldn’t be mad. His feelings came as an afterthought anyway. He was used to it.

But it did hurt. It hurt when he sent a text and got a response days later. It hurt when he’d buy a little extra food in hopes that the other would come, but he was “too busy” most of the time. Which was _understandable_. He wasn’t entitled to his attention. But it didn’t hurt any less.

Jeonghan wasn’t ready to participate in practices fully. He was required to attend them though. His side was still sore, but the headaches had stopped. His body didn’t feel like it was being shredded to pieces. He forced himself to do some of the drills knowing he’d let his stomach bulge out with all the binge eating he’d done.

For some reason he was more exhausted coming out of practice then he’d ever been. Jeonghan didn’t go all out. He tried not to push himself past his limit, but by the end of it, he was drained. It could have been the two weeks without stamina training. It could have been the slow recovery from his recent injuries, but whatever it was, he’d been the last one to show up to the locker room, slightly out of breath.

He was so used to being the first one in so he could be the first one out. Trailing in after everyone else was strange. It’d been less than a week since returning though so hopefully they’d cut him some slack.

It was awfully quiet in the locker room when he walked through the threshold. Especially for a group as rowdy as the football team. As expected, Seungcheol was nowhere in sight.

Traveling past the other sets of lockers to get to his own toward the back, he noticed a pungent stench among the usual sweat and musk of a long practice. The metal door to his locker was swung open, all its contents exposed to the rest of the team. Alarms went off in his head, knowing he’d locked it before practice began. He was so sure to never leave his locker open when a while back one of his favorite t-shirts had been cut up and stuffed back in there. And just to be safe, he altogether stopped bringing valuable things.

He noticed the eyes darting from himself to the others, hushed whispering and the unmistakable signs that they were biting back laughter. They were seriously fucking with him. He didn’t think it logical that adults would still be so petty over absolutely nothing. Jeonghan didn’t know how much more he could take of the mind games and teasing. Already dreading what they’d done, he walked closer, the odor growing stronger.

The jeans he’d changed out of earlier lay balled up at the bottom of the locker, one leg hanging out. His shirt lay discarded with it in a heaped mess. His gym bag was open on the floor in front of it, phone, wallet, all of it scattered.

But more so than tampering with his belongings, rummaging through his bag, it was soaked. Soiled with something so foul that when he was less than a foot away, he nearly gagged at the smell.

Urine. A lot of it. All over his clothes, his bag, his phone. It was disgusting, like a scene straight from a movie. He didn’t even know what to do. He was more embarrassed than anything. He couldn’t walk through the courtyard of people or the building to his dorm smelling of urine.

He turned at the sound of high-pitched laughter, chanting and wooing. His face had to have been beet red, hot, an unpleasant grimace contorting his features into something ugly.

_Looks like you had an accident?_

_Someone better call his mommy._

_I think the bitch baby’s gonna cry._

They weren’t wrong. He could feel the sting of his eyes as the tears welled up behind them. This was too much. Too cruel. He felt sick, the smell making him nauseous. He did everything to keep the tears in, tossing his head back and inhaling slowly, but the jeering didn’t stop. With a brave face, he stood there and took it all, waiting for them to get bored and leave. And when the last person was presumably gone, he allowed his resolve to crack, dragging him to his knees.

Jeonghan tried scrubbing the scent out for hours under the shower heads. He’d eventually given up on the clothes once he realized it wasn’t going away. He debated if he should try and take them back to the dorm or to the laundromat to get them cleaned, but frustration won the battle. He threw them into the trash bin with a despairing shout echoing off the metal lockers. After the embarrassment passed, he was left angry and alone, able to shout and curse with no restraint.

His gym bag luckily had a plastic casing so it was more easily salvaged. He’d wiped his phone and wallet down the best he could, choking over how disgusting the whole thing was. The phone wasn’t damaged and all of his cards and cash were intact, but the wallet itself was tossed in the trash as the smell had clung impossibly strong to the pleather. When he made his way back to his dorm after the sun had set, he was still incredibly paranoid that everyone could smell him. He kept his head down.

Joshua had fallen asleep on the couch by the time he got in which was a huge relief. Now he wouldn’t have to admit to why he came home later than usual smelling precariously like bodily fluids. He snuck past him, immediately heading for the shower. No matter what, he could still smell the urine staining his hands. When he got out, he paid extra attention to his phone, sanitizing it. He sprayed maybe too much Lysol, but it helped him feel that bit cleaner.

* * *

Joshua came to at around six a.m. Crust in eye and drool on chin, he woke up with a sore neck, soon realizing he never saw Jeonghan come home. Sitting up abruptly, he went straight to the other’s closed door, knocking gently. Jeonghan woke up just as groggy, cracking his door open just slightly. He hadn’t gotten a good sleep so he was less than enthused to be woken up so early.

“Hey, I didn’t see you come in last night. I tried to wait up but fell asleep.”

“Sorry.” Jeonghan mumbled out.

“No. No. You’re fine. I was just checking to see that you made it in alright.”

“Yeah… m’good.”

He didn’t look good. “You sure? Your eyes are all swollen and your face is puffy.” Joshua’s head was getting less foggy as the sleep drained from him.

“I didn’t sleep well. I don’t have classes or tutoring until later on today so I think I’m gonna go back to bed.” Jeonghan was already closing his door.

“Did you want—” _Slam_. “…breakfast.” Joshua decided to make him breakfast anyway and just leave it in the microwave. He got ready with a heavy heart and headed to his music composition class shortly after.

* * *

Jeonghan had given up. Whatever responses he got from Seungcheol were short, one worded answers. And that’s only when the other had the decency to respond. He felt a bit betrayed, but never had the confidence to confront him in person.

So when Seungcheol asked, “Hey, can I talk to you after practice?” he was caught off guard. He’d talked to him right in front of his jock friends like it was absolutely nothing. Didn’t seem embarrassed or weird or anything. Just simply smiled and waited for him to agree.

“Yeah, no problem. Where did you want to meet?”

“I can just meet you in the locker rooms then we can go wherever.”

“Okay?”

“It’s nothing bad. I just wanna catch up. Been super busy lately.”

“That’s fine.”

“Cool.”

Weird. A little step back, but more progress than they’d had for the past few weeks. And his teammates had been deceptively well-behaved. He figured maybe they felt just a little bit of guilt about the last incident. It was harsh. But now, he wondered. Maybe Seungcheol had found out somehow and talked to them about it. Maybe they were backing off because of him. It made Jeonghan’s stomach knot up pleasantly to think of it. To think that Seungcheol had been brave and stood up for him when he was incapable. To think that he was some knight that protected him from the shadows.

For once, he was excited for practice. Excited for what was after it more like.

Practice was anything but exciting. They had a game Sunday, but they weren’t anywhere near game ready. It was rough. Like really rough. The Coach’s voice had gone raw with the amount of shouting he’d done. _Teamwork. You have to play as one. Your head has to be in it. Come on! Is anyone here serious about this?_

They fumbled. Balls were dropped. Mistakes were made. It was as if everyone was playing their own a game and the paths just so happened to intercept on the football field. They missed all their signals, disregarded game plans. They hadn’t played this bad since his freshman year.

Jeonghan couldn’t for the life of him understand why. It was like a bad omen hanging in the air. A full moon shining down on Friday the 13th or some other foreboding moment. He was almost fully up to strength, only a dull ache stood in his way. But even he made rookie mistakes and didn’t know how. His conversation with Seungcheol was the only thing that could save him from this day.

When practice ended, everyone jogged to the locker rooms, but the Coach pulled Jeonghan aside.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He looked troubled, like something was bothering him yet uncomfortable to admit it.

Jeonghan nodded. They lingered on the field until the rest of the team had disappeared. Jeonghan tried to keep sight of Seungcheol, but he couldn’t see him. Once everyone was a far enough distance, the Coach let out a sigh. Another one of his weighty ones.

“How are you doing?” He began. The words were unusual coming from him. They would never come out naturally.

“I’m okay.” The Coach asked a few more questions, all very vague and generic. Jeonghan was impatient. He didn’t want to come off as rude each time his eyes darted behind him or his foot started to idly tap, but he was supposed to be meeting someone. “Is there something wrong?”

“Well… I would like to ask the same of you.”

Jeonghan felt his stomach churn in panic, or maybe it was relief. Did the Coach know? Did he know about the bullying? Would he finally intervene?

Maybe all this time he had been overthinking it. The Coach could have changed. He could be willing to help. If all he had to do was confess, maybe he was saved. Confess all of the horrible things that went down in that locker room. All the pain he’s had to endure. Not just the influx of torture from this year, but the first two years of light hazing. Before it got too bad. Before they had proof he was gay.

“I was just wondering because I’m hearing some… not so nice things from the other boys.”

“Things?” This could be it. The bystanders. They had to have come forward.

“Something about you… watching them? I don’t want to go into the details, but some of them are uncomfortable because they think you’re… you know. Staring too long…” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes anywhere but the shocked boy in front of him.

“W-what. What. What do you mean?” Was he saying that they were complaining about _him_. Like _they_ were the victims?

“I know it sounds weird. It feels weird just saying it. But a couple of your teammates have approached me separately with their concerns. This is supposed to be a safe environment and we don’t take these things lightly. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing you know… how you are. But… just be mindful. Harassment of any kind is not tolerated.”

He felt sick. “I—I never. I have _never_ …”

“I’m not saying you have or haven’t. All I’m asking is that you be mindful. Keep your eyes above the belt.”

Jeonghan left. He was enraged that he could be accused of something so vile when _he_ was the one being harassed. _He_ was the one they shoved into lockers and _he_ was the one getting his things pissed on. And the second he tried to defend himself, he wasn’t even given the chance. The Coach didn’t even want to know.

A fire sparked within him, burning bright with flames licking at his insides. He stormed through to the locker rooms in a huff. He was going to grab his things and gain as much distance as he possibly could from this place.

He shuffled past the others and passed the first couple of rows of lockers. He kept his eyes down, making sure to peek just in case he saw a glimpse of Seungcheol. None yet. He thought that maybe the captain hadn’t come in yet or that he’d gone outside to wait for him. If he didn’t see him by the time he was done packing up, he’d go out to meet him.

Jeonghan prided himself on being able to keep to himself. But his senses were so hyperactive, he was fully ready to take any of them on in his heightened state of rage. He’d learned to be more cautious after the last incident as well.

He heard the key words, “fresh meat” rattling around carefree laughter. _She’ll be graduating and starting college next year._ Jeonghan began to feel bad for whatever unfortunate girl ended up falling in the path of these assholes. He wouldn’t trust them. Not a single one. But then he heard terms that were all too familiar. _Hyangnam High School. Swim team. Yoon._

His head snapped to the group on the other side of the bench. He could see a glimpse of a phone. Had he just been glancing, he wouldn’t have noticed, but the layout of the Instagram profile being displayed was one he knew. It only took them a few seconds to realize he was staring sharply at them.

“What the fuck are you looking at, freak? Should I make another complaint to Coach?” A Linebacker tossed from where he was huddled with the others.

“What were you talking about?” Jeonghan knew. He fucking knew, but he didn’t want to believe it.

“Oh?” He laughed snidely. “There’s this cute girl. Graduating soon. You might know her?” The Center dangled the phone. The image was so clear.

“No.” The flames grew higher.

“But I think you do.” His lip quirked up in an obscene sneer. “Hey guys, I think we can find us a new team bitch.” Receiver.

“Don’t talk about her—” Heat grew stifling.

“I heard she’s a good fuck. Young, but experienced. Guess it runs in the family!” Fullback.

“If you even think about going near my sister—” A scalding broil.

“It’ll be a little family reunion. See how pathetic her big brother is. How much of a fag he is.” Tackle.

“Stop!” Desperate to break free.

“I’ll break her in.” The Quarterback.

Something within him snapped, leaving his body flushed red with fury. His mind didn’t have time to respond before his fist was colliding straight into the face of the Quarterback. The sound of his knuckles cracking at the sheer force of his punch did absolutely nothing to quell the rush of madness he felt. Seeing the other stumble back stunned wasn’t enough to pry him away from his emotions, making him act before thinking. He still had fight within him, this surreal power surging through. He wanted to blindly lash out at any and everything. He didn’t deserve to be punished for being different. He didn’t deserve this. He could handle the pressure they put him under, but he’d seek vengeance if anyone so much as looks at his little sister. Even if the comments were empty threats, just the thought of it ignited fury within him.

It felt so good to be the one causing pain, not the one in pain. He wanted to hit him again and again until all that was left was a bloody pulp of a person. It was a dangerous mentality, getting excited by the thought of pounding into his skull, slamming that hideous grin into the ground. But he sobered up once they locked eyes. Jeonghan was strong, but the Quarterback had a crazed look on his face. It wasn’t frustration or pent up rage like his own. It was evil. And suddenly Jeonghan became aware of just how vulnerable a position he was in.

He decided to walk away.

When he turned, he realized it then. It was already too late. They encircled him. Whoever was left of the team was there in a barricade, the others probably long gone after sensing the intensity of the confrontation. They were like a swarm of angry bees, crowding. This was their hive. They felt threatened. He turned in a slow circle. There was no weak point. No space wide enough to slip through. He was quick, but would he be quick enough? They trained daily, learning tactics to blocking their opponents and Jeonghan knew. He had always known. No rivalry they faced could compare to the hatred they had for him. Would this be the final showdown? The fight they’d been waiting for?

He faced back toward the Quarterback and the black eye that was forming looked ugly and loud. He felt proud of it. He felt proud and also very remorseful. It’s what would be his undoing. He turned and tried to push through, but as expected, he was shoved back into the center of their huddle. The mocking began. Crude taunts about the foulest things. Things he would be too embarrassed to even think. Inhumane, grotesque comments. Ruthless and sickening.

They closed in tighter as the volume of their jests grew. The shoving got more forceful and as soon as he would regain his footing, someone from a different angle would shove him to the center again. An overwhelming fear swallowed him whole. He couldn’t catch a break, couldn’t catch a breath. So, the only thing he could think to do was to lash out. His dominant fist was already sore, cracked knuckles bloodied from his first hit, that when he punched again, the effect was much less powerful.

His arms were then twisted behind his back and he could feel the proximity closing in on him from all sides. The shoving turned more aggressive. A backhand, a punch to the midsection. Old cuts and remnants of bruises became sensitive once more as fresh wounds agitated their peace.

A thought occurred to him. Seungcheol. Where was he? He must have gone outside to wait for him. He was out there waiting. And he was here, stuck. The walls were cement, cinder blocking in the sound from the locker room. He had to be loud so he could hear him. So he’d come—so anyone would come.

“Seungcheol!” He shouted. The name felt foreign in the way he shouted it. His voice felt foreign in the way it cracked. “Seungcheol!” Again. Louder.

A hand came around his throat, thick and vice-like.

The taunting shifted direction. It became harder to breathe.

“Why would he help you?”

“We-were… supposed. Meet.” He choked out. They just laughed. Laughed.

“You’re so fucking stupid. You sound dumb, you know that?

Another hopped on top of him with, “He left. He’s gone. He left before you even got here. Idiot.” Another laugh.

_He’s gone. He’s been gone._ Jeonghan wished the pain was only physical. Wished the blows would distract, but they paled in comparison to how his heart shattered. It was stronger than the cut on his busted lip. Stung more than the needles pricking open old wounds. He was stupid. He was an idiot for putting his trust in him. They’d all made a fool out of him.

Seungcheol was gone. He had no one.

+++++

He’d felt a dull ache. The fire was there, but the flame was suffocating. The oxygen was being sucked away, leaving his drive weaker and weaker than before.

He didn’t want to give in. He promised himself he wouldn’t. In a last-ditch effort, he used his legs to kick at whatever he could. He’d gotten someone in the groin, though he couldn’t tell who.

Like every other decision he made, the dominos never fell in his favor. It sparked something from someone else and before he knew it, a strident rip resounded in the foggy locker room. His black compression shirt hung off his shoulders in shambles. He didn’t have many and they weren’t cheap shirts. The offended player had him by the throat, shaking him roughly and spewing some kind of hateful thing. Something about, “ _teaching this bitch a lesson_ ”. If he was angry before, he was livid now.

Jeonghan didn’t think anyone had a right to be angry but himself.

His arms hurt from the tautness in which they were pulled behind his back. He got a temporary break. Just long enough to get the remains of his shirt out of the way before he was back in the wrestler hold.

It started with his shirt. Maybe they’d just wanted to see all of the damage they’d done. Count the bruises and gloat on how many they’d been responsible for.

But then it was his shorts, and his jock strap and then he was completely bare to the harsh white lighting of the locker room. He’d gone through many humiliating things in his life, but this had breached an entirely new level of shame. The team, all around him jeering and laughing, had put him at an all time low he didn’t know he could reach. His cheeks burned red. The flush traveled up to his ears and down to his chest. The fight within him turned desperate. He wasn’t too prideful to beg anymore.

“Please… please let me go.” They were right. He was pathetic. But even he didn’t deserve this.

_“It’ll be like a test trial.”_

Hands pulled and tug. They slapped, they pinched. Every touch scorched his skin, each feeling like a brand burning its way into his body. Whether it was visible or not, he could feel it. He’d always be able to feel it.

_“You can make yourself useful to the team for once.”_

Whoever was holding him let go and for a moment, he was suspended. He was free from it all.

Then he was shoved hard to his knees. The solid ground’s impact took his breath away. There was no comfort to be had there. No welcoming of cold tiles or quietness of the abandoned science lab.

His instincts were to cover himself, but when he’d reached for his gym shorts, a foot stepped on his hand, a pitiful crack making him wince.

“Stop! Stop please. Leave me alone.” He sounded weak even to himself.

_“Lay him over the bench.”_ The Quarterback.

_“Dude. That’s fucking sick.”_

_“I said over the bench!”_

Jeonghan couldn’t understand why they hated him so much. He had never done anything wrong. Was never the one to start an argument. Kept his distance. He’d allowed himself to be used for anything they pleased. He’d done it all and still never met their standards. He couldn’t understand why.

Jeonghan was desperate. So _so_ desperate.

“I won’t say anything. I’ll do whatever.” But it was something they already knew. They did whatever because they knew he wouldn’t say anything. And in this world, who would listen? Men don’t rape men. It’s not a thing they do. The football coach of this college team. The professor who he’d confided in. They’d tell it like it was a fact. And no one would ever be held accountable because they’d say it was his fault for being a “target”. For not being “man enough”.

He was hauled up and tossed over the bench. His back pressed against the wooden seat. He hated the way it felt against his clammy skin. All he kept thinking was how desperately he wanted a shower. His head hung over one end and his legs straddled it clumsily. Shielding himself was second nature, but it did little to stop calloused hands from marionetting him into their image.

There was that movie Shua had been begging him to watch and if he’d been more excited about it, refused to wait for Seungcheol, they could be at the dorm watching it now. He tried thinking of the movie to keep his mind off of the pain he felt. What was the title? He couldn’t remember the title. He shouted again, frustration spilling over. He shouted even if he knew one would hear him.

Retaliation.

_“Shut him up.”_

His head was yanked back by his hair. There was so much tugging. He remembered that some of them had been there when he was shamed by the seniors into cutting it his first year. _Initiation_ they’d said. Yet, he was the only one asked to do it. Then. It should have been then that he’d put a stop to it. There wouldn’t have been a now.

Something warm pressed against his lips. He closed them on instinct. Closed his eyes too. Salty fingers pried his jaw open. A warning smack made him see white. The promise of “a broken neck” if he bit. Jeonghan didn’t bite.

He’d never tasted something so revolting. He choked on the stench alone and the added pressure hammering into his gag reflex almost made him puke. Or maybe he already had. He couldn’t tell much of anything anymore.

Hands becoming occupied as they curved his fingers around thick shafts, he kept his eyes closed. Tried to picture that movie poster Shua wouldn’t stop talking about. A passing thought. Seungcheol self-invited himself over for when they chose to watch the movie he still couldn’t remember, but Jeonghan didn’t want him there. Not anymore.

Before he knew it, his legs were being pulled apart. He pretended not to know where this would end. It couldn’t hurt as much if he pretended not to know. But it hurt just as bad as he anticipated it would. It wasn’t fair.

He couldn’t breathe, but it went unnoticed. No one cared. Choking, head fuzzy, he made the mistake of opening his eyes. He was seeing double, but the image was burned onto a hard drive, stuck in his memory forever.

He’d never been religious. Couldn’t think of one time he prayed. But he felt he needed it now. He prayed for it to end.

It eventually did. Crumpled on the locker room floor. He didn’t know for how long, but even as they retreated in a frenzy and their voices faded to nothingness, he remained in the same spot. He was filthy.

+++++

It must have been hours. Hours upon hours of stillness. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. There was no motivation to. Just an ache that never stopped aching. So, he laid there for hours letting his mind find its way back to his body. There was emptiness for a long time. Then a voice told him that he couldn’t stay there. They’d be back if he did. If not for that simple warning, he very well may have stayed there until he was forced out. But it got him moving. Slowly, but surely. Sharp pains struck his lower back, his head, his most sensitive areas. There wasn’t a single thing that didn’t hurt.

He was ashamed of himself. He couldn’t stay here. The mess that surrounded him made him sick to his stomach all over again and before he knew it, he was puking right where he lay. He had to wipe away all evidence that he’d ever stepped place into that locker room. He wanted to erase every second of his past for it all somehow contributed to this moment. Like a chain reaction allowing for each occurrence to happen because of his own decisions, Jeonghan was determined to not make the same mistake again.

He used whatever he could find. Sweat towels and articles of clothing lying around, namely his ripped compression shirt. He used them to scrub. There were so many smells. They were lethal and triggering so he scrubbed them up with the things he’d found. He wanted so badly to erase the remnants of himself from this room. He wiped up the fluids, his vomit, the blood. He wore his already exhausted limbs out by scrubbing down the floor and the bench and the lockers. But every second spent there made him feel like he was sinking further and further down. He couldn’t take it.

He tossed it all in the trash. Didn’t care what or whose it was. It held the stench of himself and so many others. If he could, he’d have burned it all.

His hands shook so badly, he couldn’t even button his jeans. Even unzipping his gym bag to get them out proved difficult. But after he got it open, he emptied everything out of his locker into it.

Erase. He wanted to leave no traces behind. But deep down he knew there’d always be a piece of him left here in this room. The innocence of a boy who just wanted to get by—who just wanted to graduate college would be imprinted on this place for the rest of its existence. Even if years passed and no one was left here to remember it, this room owned a piece of him forever.

Jeonghan left and promised himself to never look back.

* * *

_I’m soooo sorry I forgot I made plans earlier this week. Raincheck?_

_-SC_

* * *

“Where have you been? I was about to—” The words died from Joshua’s lips once he saw. It was Jeonghan. His roommate. His best friend. But it also wasn’t. It was like staring at an alien that resembled him but was too distorted—disfigured. This couldn’t have been him. Not looking this raw, this disturbed. He smelled of so many things. Looked as if he were mugged on the street, swollen eyes and bloodied lips. This was not his Jeonghan. It couldn’t be.

“Shua.” His voice was so strained like he’d been swallowing mouthfuls of sand. A scared and lost kind of plea escaping from this battered human. Unrecognizable. Jeonghan fell into his arms and the younger pulled him in, allowing the door to close shut behind them. They were safe in the dorm they’d grown accustomed to. Jeonghan was safe to cry here where it was just them and the sound of lo-fi pop playing in the distance.

Jeonghan collapsed to the floor, bringing Joshua with him. He curled into his friend like a child seeking its mother’s warmth. Jeonghan released the pent-up tension, his shaken resolve festering away the protective tomb he’d trapped himself in. He’d lost all sense of time, only slowing down his hysteric sobs when he’d dehydrated himself, tear ducts completely dry.

They didn’t speak. Not for an extensive amount of time. What could Joshua say when he already knew? He couldn’t ask what happened. He couldn’t ask if he was okay. He knew the answer and it sat like a boulder in his stomach even as Jeonghan finally peeled himself way. It took twenty minutes of staring at every new marking to fuel his anger enough to muster out, “I think we should call campus police.”

It was a mistake. That much was evident from the horror-stricken face Jeonghan donned. Mortification couldn’t quite hold a candle to the way his eyes screamed at him in panic.

“No.”

“You—you’re in shock. I don’t think you are in the right mindset to make these decisions for yourself.”

Just that quickly, Joshua became the enemy.

“No. No!” Jeonghan wasn’t sure if he was yelling or not, but his throat was so hoarse, it hurt to speak. “You do _not_ get to make that decision for me.” He grew hysterical. “This is why I don’t tell you things. This… This is why!”

“Jeonghan, please.” His own tears began welling up, feeling utterly helpless.

Jeonghan scrambled to his feet, wincing at every movement. “If you tell—I promise, if you tell. I will walk out that door and you will _never_ see me again.”

Joshua stood as well growing panicked. “What are you saying?”

“Please. I trust you. You are the only person I trust. _Please_ don’t tell. Promise me.”

* * *

“That’s a wrap. Hit the showers, you guys reek.” The Coach called out after his standard cool down speech. Their first game of the season and it was trash. They were wiped out, the game ending sooner than usual as they were pummeled so badly, there was no possible chance of a comeback. Everyone was distracted, their minds seeming hazy and detached.

And their running back was a no show.

What a disappointing start to the season, Seungcheol thought. He scanned the locker room, down trodden looks of embarrassment wafting in the misty air. The showers running echoed in the cemented space. It mimicked the rain of a passing storm, dreary and funeral like. He walked closer to the back set of lockers, unintentionally picking up pieces of a hushed conversation.

“…glad he’s gone.”

“…kinda fucked up…”

…if he talks?”

Once Seungcheol rounded the corner, all conversation ceased to exist. The words evaporated like morning dew against the summer sun. They all stared at him with this look. One they’d never given him before. Was it fear? Was it apprehension? Seungcheol couldn’t really tell, just felt the rigid energy between them.

“H-hey Cap…” Someone broke the silence, but it felt just as tense. Were they… hiding something? “Sorry for letting you down…” Was there a double meaning? Everything just felt. so. weird.

“It’s just the first game. We’re getting back into the…” Something caught his eye, “..swing of things.” His words slowed down when he noticed a locker wide open and empty. It wasn’t just a locker, it was Jeonghan’s locker. Jeonghan’s empty locker.

The rest of the team shifted, following his gaze. Seungcheol continued, looking questioningly at the vacant space. He asked, “Have any of you seen Jeonghan?”

A bleak silence settled in, painting a dystopic mood around them. It pained to writhe in its discomfort. Like children caught by the principal, their eyes roamed to the chipped paint of the lockers or the scuff mark on the floor or that really odd scratch mark on the bench.

“No…”

“Haven’t seen him.”

Answers tumbled out, a weak water spout trickling out uncommitted words.

Seungcheol wanted to say more. He wanted to ask some questions, pry out the truth he felt they were hiding, but a greater sense of worry stalled him from doing so.

* * *

_“Hey. I’ve tried calling, but each time I do it goes to voicemail. Call me back or shoot me a text when you get this.”_

_“You missed another practice today. Is everything alright? Give me a call please.”_

_“I can’t help but feel like you’re avoiding me… Did I do something wrong? Please answer.”_

It’d been three days since their brutal game loss, four days since he’d seen Jeonghan. Seungcheol didn’t know if he was crossing any boundaries, felt intrusive even being there, but when he knocked on Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s door, he felt tremendously out of place. Neither of them had answered his calls or texts and this was the last resort.

He sighed in relief after the door clicked open. Upon seeing that it wasn’t Jeonghan, his shoulders sagged in disappointment.

“Hey. Is everything alright? I tried getting in touch with both of you, but I could never get through.”

Joshua’s stare was icy. It sliced him in half like the blade of an ancient sword.

“Haven’t felt much like talking.” Joshua curtly replied.

“Well is Jeonghan in? Can I talk to him?”

“I think it’s best if you leave.” There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy when Joshua began closing the door.

Seungcheol stopped him. This was so unlike the gentle man he’d met a handful of times before.

“Please?” Seungcheol’s voice cracked, distressed.

Maybe, just maybe Joshua felt a pang of pity, but resolved to steel himself once more.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“What happened?” He was desperate now. If he knew the problem, he could try to fix it. One of his teammates just packs their stuff and leaves without any kind of warning? One of his _friends_ , just waltzes out of his life without a single word as to why? This didn’t feel right. “Can you please just tell me what happened?”

“It’s not my story to tell.” Joshua said.

The words dumbfounded Seungcheol so much so that when the door slammed in his face, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He stood there for a long while. There was silence and himself.

* * *

_No_ , Joshua thought. He doesn’t get to come here and take credit. He doesn’t get to fake his concern and pretend he isn’t at fault. Not when Joshua’s been doing so much damage control, rebuilding the fragments of a person back up from the ground. Seungcheol doesn’t get to come in and tear down what he’s worked so hard to fix.

* * *

_“This is your final warning. If you don’t make it to the game on Sunday, your contract will be nullified and you will have until the end of the semester to make other arrangements for your tuition.”_

Another voicemail from the Coach. By now, the words meant absolutely nothing. Jeonghan couldn’t think about going back without acid crawling up his throat.

He thought about it. Avoiding classes, work, and any other social situations, he had a lot of time by himself to think.

He wouldn’t drop out. They took so many things from him, but they couldn’t take away his education. They couldn’t take away his promise to his family. He’d find a different way to pay for it. He’d do the on-campus tutoring plus find something off campus. He could enter some program to help pay for housing or maybe sell some of the things he didn’t really need. He’d earn enough to cover his costs and enough to send his sister anywhere but here. He’d find a way.

“Hey, Hannie. Can I come in?” Joshua spoke through his door. After their fight, Joshua made him swear to keep his door unlocked and so he did. He hadn’t left his bed much at all. Only to shower, showering three or four times a day for an hour at the least.

Joshua pushed his way through, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I brought the homework from bio.”

Jeonghan did less talking so Joshua felt the need to fill the void. He continued,

“I have this one song I wrote for my composition course, but I have to get someone else to sing it. I… was kind of hoping you’d sing it for me?” His sentence turned more into a question, unsure of how the other would take it. “For now, you can just listen to it and tell me if you like it…” Joshua made to leave but was stopped by a weak hold on his sleeve.

“You can stay.”

Joshua smiled to himself. He got comfortable under the blankets with his roommate, pulling the covers up to their shoulders. Facing him, he shared one of his ear buds and pressed play.

* * *

“I’m not confident in this at all.” Jeonghan chuckled through the mic at one of the school’s on campus recording studios.

“You sound great.” Joshua smiled at him through the glass.

“Ah, hyung! I didn’t know you could sing. I promise you’re ten times better than half of the people in the music department.”

Jeonghan didn’t know many people in the music department. In fact, the only people he’d had a conversation with was Joshua and now Joshua’s classmate, Seokmin. He didn’t know anyone on this campus was capable of unadulterated selflessness until he’d met him. A kid with such pure intentions and an empathetic heart had clung on to him like a koala to a tree. He was an actual ray of sunshine in his otherwise cloudy life. Seokmin admittedly helped him to step out of his hermit shell after Joshua convinced them to meet.

“Thank you. You guys are probably the two best hype men in the country.” Jeonghan joked, but the creeping blush kept him humble.

“Just one more verse to go and we’re done.” Joshua said, typing away at his laptop.

As the track began to play again, there was a timid knock at the door. A mess of dark hair peeked through the door.

Choi Seungcheol.

Joshua rolled his eyes. That boy wasn’t one to leave well enough alone. He’d come to their dorm seeking out Jeonghan nearly every day, being denied admittance even once. It wasn’t his call, it was Jeonghan’s. If he wasn’t ready, Joshua would be the last person to push him. He had learned his lesson.

But here he was again. At the entrance of the studio like a fish out of water. Jeonghan was frozen in the booth, surprised eyes turning into slits, honing in on Joshua.

But the younger held up his hands in defense. “I had nothing to do with this. Want me to kick him out?”

A tense minute of staring at each other was broken by Jeonghan’s hefty sigh. “It’s fine. Can we have a minute?”

Joshua was rather unwilling to leave him alone in a room with him. Jeonghan’s pleading eyes made him concede.

Seokmin confused, pouted at his new friend, then followed Joshua outside.

It was just the two of them now.

Former Captain. Former Running Back. At once, they may have even been friends. The lines were blurred.

Jeonghan didn’t leave the recording booth so Seungcheol decided he’d step in to join him.

“I’ve been trying to reach out to you…” Seungcheol began meekly. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, feeling entirely uncomfortable.

“I’ve been avoiding you.” Jeonghan said matter of factly.

Seungcheol was well aware. He’d called, messaged, visited and this was the first time he’d heard him speak in weeks.

“You quit the team?” Seungcheol asked as if still in disbelief. He winced at how abnormally quiet he was speaking. It had felt as if his voice took up too much space, so he adjusted it. And now it barely came as a whisper.

“Yep.”

Another drawn out silence between them. Seungcheol was fidgeting with his hands, eyes searching for something in Jeonghan’s expression. Anything other than the straight line of his brow or the tightness of his lips.

“Can I ask why?”

He laughed. Jeonghan laughed. Of all things. And usually that would break the ice, clear the air, but it only drove a stake in his heart. Something about the sound caused goosebumps to raise on his arms.

“I never really did fit in…” They locked eyes. A current of electricity traveled up Seungcheol’s spine. He bit his lip to keep still. “My first year, you weren’t here so I couldn’t blame you. My second year, you showed up, but kept to yourself. This year, you were the captain. Maybe I thought things would be different.”

“I don’t understand…”

“No, you don’t. I don’t think you ever will.” That same bone chilling laugh.

“Is this about the accusations? Coach told me about…” How could he phrase it? “The shower incidents? I wanted to talk and hear your side. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“You didn’t believe it, did you? What they said about me.” When Seungcheol couldn’t answer right away Jeonghan felt something stir within him. “Is this why you stopped talking to me? Because you thought I was some creep, ogling the jocks of the football team? So instead of coming to me, you shut me out?”

“No. I didn’t think that. Not once. I just didn’t know how to start that conversation because I thought you’d get defensive like you’re doing now.”

“Damn right I’m defensive! You… _all_ of you have been against me from the beginning! I keep asking myself if I did something wrong.” He was shouting now, the space too small for his voice. “I don’t get why you’re even here. To rub it in my face? To make sure I won’t speak out against your buddies?”

“Speak out against what?”

“How can you act like you don’t know what happened?”

“Because I don’t! I don’t know!” Seungcheol grew equally as loud, grateful for the sound proof room bleeding out their noise from the rest of the building.

“You asked me to wait for you and you weren’t there! I waited for you and because I did they—they…” He was revving up, frantically pulling at his unkempt hair, gulping in air to calm his burning lungs. “They cornered me! Held me down and…” His glossy eyes turned distant. He choked on the words, forcing them out, “…raped me.” His knees gave in and he felt himself wanting to throw up.

He brought his hand up to his mouth. It stirred Seungcheol from his shock just in time to snag a trash bin from the corner.

He wanted to reach out and hold his hair away from his face or pat his back—to comfort him in some kind of way. But he knew he didn’t deserve that role. He didn’t deserve to sing soothing words to him or tell him it would all be okay. He didn’t deserve to be a friend to someone he’d put so far in harm’s way. And it finally donned on him that he was at fault. A bystander at most would try to intervene but he’d failed to do even that. He allowed those people to convince him that Jeonghan was the problem and then when he needed him, abandoned him in the same breath.

No wonder Jeonghan hated him. He hated himself too.

“Please. Please tell me you really didn’t know. Please tell me that you didn’t tell me to wait for you because you knew what they were planning. Please tell me you would have done something if you knew.” Jeonghan spoke so quietly, so incredibly low, yet it was the clearest he’d heard him.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I am so,” he hiccupped, voice wavering, “so so sorry. I didn’t know. I would have stopped them. I would have done something. I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t solve all Jeonghan’s problems. It wouldn’t make it go away, but he resented Seungcheol a little less. Shifted the blame from his own shoulders to the ones who’d attacked him. He didn’t feel as stupid for allowing Seungcheol in, but part of him still hated him for not being there.

* * *

He shared the burden some. Spoke out more, bottled up less. Finally saw that school counselor Joshua had been pushing him to see. He still wasn’t ready to drag himself through the mud to relive every detail of the worst moment of his life, but he revealed smaller troubles when they arose.

Joshua helped him find a new passion for music. It wasn’t the perfect plan for a sustainable career, but it made him happy. He was learning happiness should be the driving factor for his goals. The music professors took a liking to him. Even with little skill, he had potential. And even if it was temporary and he never sang another song for as long as he lived, he learned to fill his free time with things that he genuinely enjoyed. It was okay for now.

When graduation came, it was a huge relief. He worked like hell off campus and busted his ass doing jobs to keep him occupied. Sure, he couldn’t completely replace the amount of debt that accumulated from the lack of scholarship funding, but he did make a dent in paying back the loans.

His mother and sister came and cheered him on as he walked across the stage. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to walk, much preferring to quietly accept his diploma and dissipate into the wide expanse of the world. But when his mom heard that he’d be graduating on time, she was already booking train tickets.

She hadn’t taken the news of him losing the scholarship well and after prodding into why he’d lost it, she’d eventually given up and worried silently between extra shifts she’d picked up. But he’d made it and she was proud and his sister was as annoying as ever but clung tightly to his robes as they gathered for pictures.

It was a lovely ceremony. He’d pulled his tiny family into a corner. Joshua hugged his mom with a gentle look in his soft eyes. It was then that Jeonghan finally felt the ending of a chapter in a long, drawn-out book approaching. Something about their watery eyes and bittersweet smiles gave finality to their times at the university. They were no longer classmates or roommates or stay up all night with a tub of ice cream mates. It was just Jeonghan. It was just Joshua. They were two adults being let loose in the world and although that thought was terrifying, it was also invigorating.

Joshua began bragging to Jeonghan’s mom about his grades and plans after graduation and out of the corner of his eye he saw someone drawing near. A quick glance let him know it was someone he knew. Someone he never wanted to see again yet felt compelled to seek to find some form of closure. Seungcheol had tried several times to rebuild whatever friendship they’d started. And for a while, Jeonghan let him. But eventually it became too much. They couldn’t see each other without reminding themselves of the past and it hurt more to gain a friend than it was to lose one. Jeonghan noticed Seungcheol was always apologizing through his body language, with his undertones. Even when he didn’t say it aloud, Jeonghan knew he was thinking it. And he couldn’t base a friendship off of pity.

So after, they drifted. It was intentional. Jeonghan didn’t want any piece of who he was to resurface due to being tethered down by the people associated. It helped his healing process and now, much different and more grounded, he found himself able to look him in they eye without the need to look away. So much had changed in a year.

“Congratulations.” Seungcheol approached with caution. Jeonghan was surprised he could even get the words out with how nervous he looked.

“You too.” Jeonghan glanced at his mother still chattering away. Glanced at his sister drooling over his best friend. Glanced at his best friend too occupied to help him escape this inevitably awkward encounter.

Heavy silence reigned between them; background noise was washed out by too many heightened emotions.

“I’m sorry.” Seungcheol was the first to break. It was the first and last day of the beginning of forever and all of the feelings harbored came like flooding dams, too afraid to miss their opportunity in such a pivotal moment in time. “I… I…”

“I know.” Jeonghan smiled. It was small yet had the utmost of sincerity.

Maybe Seungheol was already on the precipice of crying before he walked over. Maybe he’d already cried hugging his friends and his family and thanking his professors. But maybe he’d saved some of those tears for Jeonghan because nothing could really measure up to how sorry he truly felt.

“I didn’t expect you to be such a crier.” Jeonghan continued jokingly, but even now looking at Seungcheol, his stomach churned with an unsettling resentment hidden beneath the person he was trying to become. A bunch of open-ended what ifs made it hard to see him without seeing the worst versions of himself as well.

Seungcheol knew however many times he told himself “it wasn’t your fault” deep down, pieces of him would argue that in an indirect way, it was. Parts of Jeonghan would never forgive Seungcheol and parts of Seungcheol would never forgive himself. What if? What if? What if? And fuck. Yeah, he was a crier. He swiped away his tears and looked hopeful toward Jeonghan. He didn’t know if they’d ever see each other again. He asked,

“Can I hug you? Would that be weird?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and opened his arms. “We’re not complete strangers, are we?”

Seungcheol accepted the embrace.

And maybe one day Jeonghan would find the strength to tell his story to someone outside of his small group and maybe it would feel empowering. Or maybe it would feel relieving. Maybe he’d revisit the skeletons in his closet he tried so hard to bury and find that they didn’t need to be hidden anymore. He hoped he could silence the small voice in the back of his head that always brought up the things he wanted to disappear. Or if he couldn’t silence it, he could learn to co-exist. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to suppress it. But until then, he would use every bit of his energy to go towards building a happier and healthier life for himself. He was working through life at his own pace. That’s what mattered most. That his decisions were his own and that each would go toward a better future. A future he was now sure he deserved.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you. I really really really mean it. I think writing can be a very vulnerable and powerful thing so I appreciate you taking the time to read this. You can come talk to me on twitter or tumblr @eottoghe 
> 
> Thank you.


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